Your First and Your Last
by LaughterNeverDies
Summary: John discovers Sherlock is a virgin. He wants more than anything to help him overcome his fear and insecurities. Please review x
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by A Scandal. Come on, someone had to write it. Explicit content, you have been warned! ~K**

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><p>"Sex doesn't alarm me." Sherlock bit back, venom tainting his words. Mycroft smiled slowly, relishing the act of humiliating his little brother in front of his friend.<p>

"How would you know?" He purred. John raised his head in surprise to look at the consulting detective. Sherlock drew back slightly in his indignation. The doctor imagined that he saw a feint flicker of shame dance across the detective's eyes, but it passed so swiftly John began to wonder if it had ever been there at all. Sherlock's jaw set and he glared at his brother, snatching the photographs from his outstretched hand.

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><p>"Sherlock?"<p>

"John"

"Could I ask you something? Something personal." The doctor asked that evening, as the detective sunk ever lower in his chair, his fingers steepled with the middle fingers brushing his hairline.

Sherlock lay almost horizontally on the cushion now, his chin rested on his breast and his bright, quicksilver eyes narrowed in thought. He spoke with a laboured tone, as though the mere thought of speaking required a vast amount of effort better spent on brooding. "I am sure you are perfectly capable of communicating your question to me John. I believe you meant to ask if I would be inclined to answer such a question as the one of an intimate nature you have constructed." John nodded.

"Right" He replied "well, will you?"

"Naturally"

John pushed himself forwards in his chair, closer to the detective, so close that their knees brushed ever so slightly. The doctor was suddenly very aware of their minimal contact, Sherlock's body heat radiated through the fabric of his trousers like a scorching flame. "Sherlock, have you ever..." John fought to find the right words, to show the depth of his friendship and concern for the other man. He leant forwards into the detective's line of sight. "Have you ever had a relationship, a partner...sex?" He ventured.

The detective flinched, his penetrating gaze settling on his flatmate accusingly. "Why?"

"I want to know, Sherlock, I want you to be able to tell me something that you wouldn't tell any other person. You can trust me."

Sherlock stood abruptly, scattering loose pages of documents and files around him carelessly. He stared John directly in his gentle eyes.

"No." He clenched his hands into fists. "Not that it's any of your concern, _doctor. _But do feel free to blog about it, I'm sure the world is just dying to know that Sherlock Holmes is a-" He faltered, his fingers uncurling slowly, flexing, testing. He wanted to know that he could say it without getting angry or hurt like the other times. "A virgin" He whispered. Then he turned sharply and strode to his room, leaving John very much confused.

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><p>The detective sat alone in his room, his long legs folded beneath him and his hands laced together in his lap. Composed, controlled, restrained...alone.<p>

John Watson observed his friend from the safe distance of the door, just out of throwing range for the detective. He knew Sherlock could feel him watching him, but the other man made no move to show this knowledge. John took a breath and progressed into the room. There was still no movement from the detective. John moved forwards and sat slowly on the bed, which bounced slightly with his added weight. "I'm sorry" He said quietly. Sherlock didn't reply. "I had no right to ask you that, and I'm sorry."

"I just don't...get it." Sherlock said quietly. John frowned.

"Relationships?"

"Sex." The detective replied bluntly.

"Oh"

"I mean, I understand the science, but..." He paused, sucking on his lip, "It just doesn't look...comfortable."

John blinked, shifting slightly to look at his friend, his internal struggle. "It's ugly, and rough, and...I don't understand it." Sherlock continued.

"Sherlock, exactly how much of sex do you know about?" John asked.

"Enough. The internet is an invaluable resource John. There are more than enough websites to provide a sufficient education. I believe the colloquial term is 'porn'."

"That stuff isn't realistic! Sherlock those people are actors...more or less. They're paid to scream and moan and rut frantically like that because that's what a lot of people wish sex was like, spontaneous and angry and even painful in sometimes. But that doesn't mean it has to be like that..." John said, studying the detective's face intently. Sherlock said nothing.

"Do you know why I haven't ever had a relationship, John? Do you know why I've never been intimate with another person?" Sherlock said, staring blankly out of his window, the moonlight glancing off his angular features. John shook his head, but was unsure if the detective saw the slight action.

Sherlock turned his head to look at John, a sad smile on his lips. "Because I don't know how to be" John's breath caught in his throat. He reached out and tentatively took his friend's hand which was resting in his lap. Sherlock jumped and sprang away like John had burned him. He darted to the corner of the room and stood with his back pressed against the wall, his eyes glinting in the shadows. John held his breath, afraid to move too fast or too suddenly, he didn't want to scare Sherlock, to drive him away. Right now he couldn't bear to be apart from the consulting detective.

"Please" John murmured, "please just trust me Sherlock". He held out his hand, willing the other man to believe him. The detective relented, walking slowly, tentatively towards his friend.

"John I...I can't. I told you, I don't know how."

"Then let me show you." Sherlock sat heavily on the bed, his eyes glassy and distant. John tried again, touching Sherlock's wrist this time. The detective did not pull away, letting the weight of the doctor's touch linger on his bare skin. "Sherlock are you actually going to look at me?" John said, releasing Sherlock's wrist slowly, trailing his fingertips along the delicate skin of his wrist, feeling his pulse quicken ever so slightly.

Sherlock looked at John desperately, his eyes betraying his distress. "I could never ask that much of you, John"

"Don't" John said, "please don't." He sighed, lowering his gaze. "I'm your friend, Sherlock, I want to help you. And I'd be lying if I said that I haven't wanted this for a long time."

Sherlock frowned. "So I was right. That night at the restaurant, you did want to..."

"I didn't then. I didn't know what to think. But I won't let my feelings get in the way of helping you. If that's what you want, I will guide you through it, and I'll make it as perfect as I know how."

Sherlock swallowed visibly, reaching out and grasping John's hand tightly in his own. "I want you to be my first John. I want you."

"You trust me?"

"Absolutely."

Sherlock felt a feverish smile tugging at his lips, he let it consume him, content to see it mirrored on the face of his friend. "Just, relax. Let me show you." John whispered. He leant in slowly, feeling the detective's breath hot on his cheek.

Sherlock was scared, he was scared and he was ashamed to admit it. He trusted his friend, but he couldn't bear to disappoint him, to ruin this moment. But when he felt John Watson's lips press gently on his, every uncertain thought scattered to the far corners of his mind, allowing instinct to overcome him. He tried moving his lips carefully against the doctors, which seemed to have positive effects, judging by the sharp intake of breath and light pressure applied by John. Sherlock's hands were limp and useless, one grasped firmly by the doctor, and the other lying dumbly in his lap. John moved his hand to the detective's arm, stroking the length of his forearm to reach his hand. The doctor took Sherlock's free hand and placed it carefully on his inner thigh. The detective instinctively spread his long fingers over John's leg, giving an experimental stroke of the doctor's thigh with his thumb. John smiled against his lips, conscious not to push Sherlock too far; he rested his own hand on the detective's hip, teasing the silk material of his shirt with his thumb and forefinger.

Sherlock was just getting the hang of their slow deliberate kissing when John did something unexpected. He felt a hot slightly wet pressure on his bottom lip and he froze. The doctor's tongue traced his lip lightly, knowing where the skin was most sensitive. Sherlock let out an involuntary little moan of pleasure as the doctor parted his lips and their tongues flicked together experimentally, the roughness of John's mouth strangely gratifying to feel moving against his own. He pulled back in embarrassment. "Sorry" Sherlock mumbled ashamedly. John frowned, tilting Sherlock's chin towards him.

"It's OK" John replied, kissing the detective once again. "Just let go" Then they were kissing again, more passionately this time. John could feel the raw longing and uncertainty behind the detective's cold unfeeling mask. The doctor took charge as agreed, pulling Sherlock's shirt from his trousers and running his fingers over the small patch of cool alabaster skin above the waistband. John stopped kissing the other man for a moment, his hands moving up to the top button of the detective's shirt. He began to undo the shirt carefully, not letting his skin brush Sherlock's chest so not to alarm him. The detective watched in fascination as he was undressed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed in his nervousness. John resisted the urge to lean forwards and kiss it, his nimble fingers making short work of the buttons.

Sherlock sat statuesque on the bed, controlling his breathing and keeping perfectly still to allow the doctor to explore his torso. John unfastened the last button and sat on his heels to admire the flat planes of the detective's smooth chest. Then he placed a gentle hand over Sherlock's heart, feeling it beat for him. The other man smiled, reaching up and taking John's hand, covering it with his own. The detective's fear was communicated in his gaze, but even so he made the choice to try and participate in John's ministrations.

Sherlock moved his hands to the hem of John's jumper, his fingers creeping under the tee shirt beneath to stroke his skin tentatively. "May I?" He asked quietly, John nodded enthusiastically. The detective helped him off with his jumper, tugging it carefully over his head, the soft sandy hair sticking up on end. Sherlock grinned at his friend's appearance, realizing that he found a dishevelled John very attractive indeed. "I'm going to kiss you now, John" Sherlock forewarned the doctor, the question evident in the slight crease of his brow. John simply smiled, closing his eyes in preparation. Sherlock took a steadying breath, leaning forwards and kissing John tentatively, his nose brushing John's cheek and his fingers weaving into his sandy hair. The doctor did the same, removing his hands from Sherlock's chest and carding them gently through the dark curls. He dragged his nails over the detective's scalp analytically. Sherlock groaned deep in his throat, pressing himself against John so their chests touched.

The doctor slipped the shirt from his friend's shoulders, casting it aside and turning his attention to stroking tentative patterns over Sherlock's pale skin with his fingertips. The detective arched his spine at John's touch. The doctor smiled against his lips 'ticklish are we Mr Holmes?' he thought privately, attempting another approach. He tried lightly brushing the detective's nipple with his thumb as they kissed, pressing himself closer to the other man. Sherlock sighed contentedly, his fingers returning to the tee shirt John wore. He broke the kiss momentarily and stripped it from his torso, his eyes flicking over to the scar tissue knotted at his friend's shoulder uncertainly. John lifted his hand and cupped the detective's face in his palm. "Everything's fine, you can touch me wherever you are comfortable" He whispered. Sherlock nodded, then he leant forwards and pressed a soft kiss to the scar and John hummed in pleasure, so he did it again.

John rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder in return, turning his head to suck on the other man's neck lightly at first, but when the detective pulled him closer he latched onto the perfect marble skin and sucked a red mark just behind Sherlock's ear. "Oh" Was all the taller man could say, lost in the perfect moment. John made a move and pushed gently against the detective's chest, directing him to lie on the bed. Sherlock laid back obediently, the doctor almost in his lap now, their bare chests pressed together. 'This is unexpectedly pleasant' Sherlock's brain murmured to itself as John ran his hands up and down the other man's torso, letting his hands rest on the detective's hips and pushing tentatively against him. Something sparked in Sherlock's brain and he gasped as the minimal friction sent a dizzying heat straight to his groin.

John grinned triumphantly, rocking back on his heels to observe the detective blushing furiously, his erection straining against the confines of his tight trousers. Sherlock reached down, his hand hovered uncertainly over his crotch, not wanting to do anything until John helped him. He couldn't remember the last time he had an erection, even when he was a teenager he hadn't been interested in touching himself or seeking out the pleasurable activities of his peers. He was above the senseless rutting and sexual exploration other boys of his age seemed infatuated with, preferring science books to dirty magazines, and the sweet caress of the wind on his cheek to the rough fondling of an over-eager girl or boy.

The doctor was still grinning; the very sight of Sherlock Holmes standing fully to attention was enough to make him achingly hard without a hand to himself. "John...I-I" Sherlock stuttered in his embarrassment.

"Shhh" John uttered soothingly. "We're going to do this right, and we're going to do this slowly. I promise I'll look after you." He breathed, lowering his body onto Sherlock's and kissing him tenderly. Sherlock flinched in surprise as the John's arousal came into contact with his own, albeit through the fabric of two pairs of trousers, and what came as more of a surprise was the effect it had on his body. John grunted as Sherlock thrust his hips unconsciously against his, begging for a release. He looked into the detective's eyes and melted under his pleading gaze.

John slipped a hand between them and fiddled with the other man's belt awkwardly, tugging at it just enough to show the detective what he wanted. Sherlock raised himself up onto his elbows, allowing John to pull him the rest of the way into sitting. John unfastened Sherlock's belt slowly, taking his time to pull the leather through the belt loops, his fingers ghosting over the waistband teasingly. Sherlock followed his lead, fumbling uncharacteristically with John's zip and undoing his trousers clumsily. The doctor could see him getting more and more distressed, so he took Sherlock's hand and held it tightly, giving it a squeeze to indicate his trust. Sherlock conquered his jeans and John stepped away from him momentarily. The detective frowned in confusion, had he done something wrong?

John smiled reassuringly at him, walking to the other side of the bed and peeling back the crisp clean sheets suggestively. "I want you to feel comfortable" John said tenderly. Sherlock understood, and he hurried to pull back the covers and slipped between them. John followed, inching across the double bed and taking the detective in his arms once more. They kissed slowly, drawing out the inevitable. John could feel Sherlock was scared of the next step, and so he held him for a moment to comfort him.

The doctor's hands found their way to Sherlock's waistband once more. They stopped kissing as the detective allowed him to pull them gently over his hips and his straining member. John made sure not to hurt him as he tugged them past Sherlock's penis and down his legs where the detective kicked them away helpfully. Sherlock copied his movements, making sure to avoid John's arousal and stroking his fingers ever so slightly over the doctor's thigh. John shivered and wriggled closer, desperate to touch him. When they were almost fully unclothed, John hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Sherlock's boxers and pulled them fractionally over the detective's hips, enough to expose a strip of dark hair below his abdomen. Sherlock gasped slightly and closed his eyes as John gave him the lightest of strokes and smoothed the pad of his finger over the sensitive skin. "Is this OK?" John murmured, pressing against him. Sherlock didn't reply, having lost the power of coherent thought at that merest of touches. This was it; this was finally going to happen for him. Strangely, Sherlock wasn't scared anymore; the nerves had been replaced by a giddy anticipation which coiled in his stomach. He was about to lose his virginity at the age of thirty three to a handsome army doctor whom he trusted entirely, and had a deep and profound affection for. John would look after him.

"I'll make it special, I promise" John said, kissing him. Sherlock didn't know what to do, so he kissed back urgently, his hands mapping John's body and skirting lower to brush the cotton of his underwear.

"I trust you" He whispered, taking down John's boxers in one swift movement, and exposing his manhood beneath the duvet. John gasped and followed suit, dragging Sherlock's underwear quickly over his sharp hipbones and over his legs. The detective whimpered as John took him in his arms and pressed their naked bodies together, nuzzling his neck adoringly.

"You are amazing" John growled into Sherlock's throat, burying his face in the detective's shoulder and sneaking a glance at their bodies twined together intimately. His cock gave a twitch at Sherlock in all his glory, spread between his legs. John sighed at the perfection of this moment, in the arms of Sherlock Holmes, feeling the detective's heart beat frantically against him. He risked one last glance at the other man, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Sherlock looked perfectly content, his eyes half lidded with desire. John wrapped his arms around his impossibly skinny waist, spreading their legs apart a little and beginning to rub slowly against the detective. Sherlock gripped John's hip possessively in his heightened pleasure, his hands sliding round to touch the doctor's arse and give it a gentle squeeze. John chuckled, his hands roaming freely over the detective's naked body. He trailed a finger over the cleft of the other man's buttocks, following the crease and teasing the delicate skin. Sherlock made a hiccupping sound as John skimmed his opening with his warm fingers, and bucked his hips against the doctor's.

John closed his eyes, allowing the sensation of the other man's body moving confidently against him to dominate his thoughts. Sherlock was learning, understanding John's body and exploring it with his own. The detective moved down to rest his head against the doctor's chest, curving his back to maintain the contact between them. John breathed in Sherlock's scent, the heady mix of the detective's shampoo and their combined sweat consuming him. They lay side by side, writhing together slowly in their uncertainty, enjoying the pleasure of another person's body and very being connected with their own. Sherlock raised his arms and looped them around John's shoulders, drawing him closer and kissing him as the doctor rolled his hips in long, throbbing circles of sensation. John continued to stroke the detective's arse absently, squeezing and releasing the gorgeous toned flesh in his hands. He pressed one finger against Sherlock's opening again, teasing the tight muscle with the tip and then withdrawing, each time entering deeper into him. He began doing this in time with the undulations of their hips, feeling the detective coming undone in his arms. "Oh John..." Sherlock whimpered, "John John John" He chanted, his breath coming fast and ragged now. He was close, the doctor knew.

John slipped a hand between them, withdrawing from the detective's body and separating their aching members. Sherlock gave a little tremor of grief at the loss, his eyes closed tightly. The doctor wrapped his fingers around Sherlock's erection loosely, not wanting to cause the other man pain. Sherlock groaned loudly and suddenly as John gave him a long, slow stroke along his length. The detective's fingernails dug painfully into John's muscle and he thrust encouragingly against his palm. John rubbed him again, felling the tension coiling in his gut as he came close to his release. Sherlock dipped his head down and kissed John with such passion and enthusiasm that it sent them both over the edge.

They cried out together, each holding the name of the other man on their lips, their simultaneous orgasms taking hold of their bodies. John held on tightly to the detective as the taller man's body shuddered and convulsed in pleasure and relief, the wet residual semen coating their skin.

They said nothing for a long time, basking in the afterglow of their union. Sherlock cuddled closer, resting his head on John's and wrapping his arms around the small doctor. John smiled to himself and leant up to kiss the detective. "Sherlock Holmes, you are no longer a virgin" He said quietly, and brushed a stray curl from the other man's forehead. The detective seemed to stiffen at that thought, barely breathing for a moment.

"Thank you" He whispered "you truly are a wonderful friend." John's heart sank pitifully.

"I was rather hoping I could be more than that" He said mournfully, tracing light circles on Sherlock's chest with his finger "because I think I might have just gone and fallen in love with you Sherlock, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it"

The detective swallowed "You have?"

"Head over heels" John replied honestly, because now he knew how he felt. That last night had revealed the true depth of his feelings for the man currently curled protectively around him.

Sherlock sighed, relaxing his tensed muscles. "I was rather hoping you would say that" He murmured "because I think I love you too John. I always have, and I can't keep pretending. What you did for me last night was...spectacular, and it made me realize that I never want to have that with anyone other than you. There's nobody I will ever be this happy with and who I would rather have as my first time." He took John's hand, staring into his eyes. John smiled shyly. "I gave you my virginity tonight John, but you have something far more precious in your possession." He placed John's hand over his chest. "My beating heart."

They kissed deeply and sleepily as the sun crept over the horizon and bled into a new and perfect dawn.


	2. Chapter 2

**Didn't plan on updating this one, but there is just too much fluff in my head not to write it down... ~K**

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><p>Sherlock and John sat at the breakfast table in comfortable silence, the morning light streaming in through the high windows. Occasionally the detective would glance up from his paper and John would catch his eye. They smiled at each other shyly, their knees brushing under the table.<p>

When John got up from the table Sherlock stood up abruptly out of respect, the way a gentleman would do when a lady enters the room. Sherlock followed his new lover to the sink as they dumped their plates. John felt the hairs on his arms rise as Sherlock accidentally touched the bare skin of his arm to John's hand. If this wasn't love John didn't know what was. He had only to be in the same room as the detective for his mood to be lifted.

The doctor crossed the room with Sherlock trailing a little way behind. He paused near the hall. "Sherlock, I think I left something in your room, do you mind?"

"Not at all" The detective replied. John went into Sherlock's bedroom to retrieve his favourite jumper from the floor, only to find it laid out and folded neatly on the pristine bed. He paused with his hand inches from the soft knitted wool and allowed himself a smile.

When he returned to the living room he found Sherlock standing sentinel by the window, bow in hand, the violin tucked under his cheek. He didn't play, merely holding onto the moment like he was considering the tune befitting the new morning, which movement could express his brand new emotions. John approached him and stood by his side, noticing for the first time the height difference between them. "What's the weather like up there?" John said with a low chuckle.

"Pardon?" Sherlock replied, his gaze settling on his lover's upturned face.

"Nothing, just trying to make a joke about your height" John muttered. Sherlock smiled,

"I see..." The detective's eyes flicked to the jumper John had put on, and the doctor noticed the corners of his eyes crease with happiness. "I like that jumper...it's my favourite" Sherlock murmured, lifting the bow and dragging it smoothly across the strings.

"You have a favourite jumper?"

"Mmm" Sherlock hummed in reply, closing his eyes and letting the music envelop him in its melodic embrace. John lifted his hand and let it rest lightly on the detective's hip. Sherlock leant into him and continued playing beautifully. John felt like crying in the perfection of the moment. Sherlock launched into a cover of a song John recognised very vividly, and the doctor shivered with adoration for the man pressed against him. Sherlock played softly through the lullaby Hushabye Mountain while John clung to him and closed his eyes. The detective smiled and allowed himself to be swept away by the melody, it was very beautiful, and he regretted not learning it before. It was peaceful and soothing, unlike the emotional or sorrowful pieces he was used to. When John had come into his life he had taken that aspect of Sherlock's life away and replaced it with this warm happiness and contentment within him. The taller man let out a gentle sigh as the song came to an eventual end and lifted the instrument from his shoulder, letting the hand gripping the bow fall to his side. John also breathed a shuddering gasp and squeezed his eyes shut. "How did you know that was my favourite childhood song?" He whispered into the detective's side as a tear spilled over his cheek. There was a brief silence.

"I didn't" Sherlock replied quietly, resting his chin on the doctor's head and pulling him close into a hug. "It was a guess. A damn lucky guess." He chuckled and John grinned against his chest.

"Thank you"

Sherlock looked into John's eyes as the doctor pulled away and smiled at him. The detective broke his gaze and blushed a little, turning away and releasing the other man. John frowned in his confusion as Sherlock bit his lip and studied the carpet intently. "John," He said at last, not looking at the doctor. "I know that...what we did last night it was...special, to me. And I know that a lot of people don't value sex very much, which is obvious, but I want you to know that I do. You may have said some things last night that you may regret now, and I understand if you want to move out or you just want to stay friends like we were. Perhaps sex doesn't mean anything to you, which is fine, commonplace, but I do care about you, an awful lot." He said quickly. John sighed and butted his head against Sherlock's shoulder. The detective turned to look at him awkwardly. "I've never had a relationship John, I don't know what people do together, or what a relationship means, but I know that I want very much to have one with you." Sherlock whispered.

The doctor wrapped his arms around Sherlock and held him tightly, breathing in his scent. The detective stiffened and carefully held onto the smaller man. "And I thought you knew everything" John muttered.

"I'm sorry?"

"If you really are as clever as you think you are, you should know that I want to be with you Sherlock, in a relationship, in your heart, and in your bed...if you'll have me" John replied, feeling the detective's slender hand touch his own and take it gingerly, caressing the pads of his fingers with his thumb.

"Of course" Sherlock murmured, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to John's hairline, and another to his jaw. "So was it good, last night?" He said quietly. John pulled away from him and they leant in at the same time to kiss tenderly.

"The best" The doctor said happily. Sherlock frowned in his surprise.

"But I'd no experience" He said.

"Well then, we'll have to do something about that..." John chuckled. "If you enjoyed it then we can do it again whenever you are ready"

"I did like it, very much. It felt...nice" The detective said, finding it hard to express his feelings to the doctor. "I especially liked that it was you doing those things with me John, it was safe and comfortable" This was not exactly how John was used to being described in bed. 'Safe' and 'nice' were not particularly inspiring words when discussing sexual performance.

"I'm glad" He said. "So it didn't hurt then, and it wasn't messy or painful?" He prompted.

"No, I was wrong, sex can be pleasurable, and sex with you is wonderful and made me feel...tingly." Sherlock replied.

"Thank you" John said, because there wasn't much you could say to that. "If I may say so, you make me weak at the knees yourself Mr Holmes." John wasn't lying; those little moans and grunts of satisfaction from the detective last night had been incredibly arousing. If that man's gorgeous body wasn't enough, the deep, sexy, baritone rumble of his crying out at orgasm was pure sexual fantasy on legs.

Sherlock blushed. "Thank you John...I'm glad I wasn't a total disappointment."

"You could never disappoint me Sherlock, never." John replied, "You were spectacular, and I can always teach you more about sex if you want, we will get better at being together, once we get used to it." Sherlock nodded and smiled. "Besides, you need a better resource than the internet, better to get hands-on experience with these things" John said, and Sherlock laughed.

"I'd like that"


	3. Chapter 3

John sighed contentedly and drew his legs up to his chest on the sofa. Sherlock sat on the opposite end, fixated on the television. The doctor yawned, stretching his arms and letting one rest nonchalantly on the back of the sofa behind Sherlock's head. The detective did nothing. John reached out and stroked a lock of the other man's dark hair, twisting it gently between his fingers and dragging his nails lightly over Sherlock's scalp. Sherlock shivered involuntarily and frowned, casting his gaze to John, who was smiling slightly and jiggling his foot against his leg. The doctor withdrew his hand and patted the spot next to him on the sofa. Sherlock's frown deepened; clearly he wasn't used to being hit on. John rolled his eyes and scooted up the sofa to press gently against the detective. "Oh" Sherlock said as John snuggled into his thin body. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted to..."

"It's fine" John replied, "It's all fine."

Sherlock nodded, lifting his arm and slipping it around John's waist cautiously. The doctor rested his head on the taller man's shoulder and closed his eyes; this was exactly where he always wanted to be.

The detective watched the credits roll on the show they had been watching, or rather, not watching in his case. Sherlock had been too preoccupied revelling in the warmth and heat radiated by the small doctor curled against his hip. He bent his head down and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his new lover's cheek. John smiled, stretching up to kiss him back full on the mouth. "I think I'd like to take you to bed now John" Sherlock rumbled, unaware of just how unbearably sexy he was being.

"I think I'd like that" John replied, grinning as the taller man stood and offered a hand to John. The doctor accepted, and Sherlock pulled him up, all the way off his feet to kiss him in mid air as he wrapped his long arms around the little man. "Great, now I feel small" John muttered good-naturedly when Sherlock put him down.

"Sorry" Sherlock said, bending down, his elegant legs folding beneath him until he was on his knees. "Better?" He asked, resting his forehead against John's stomach and closing his eyes.

John laughed, and Sherlock felt the vibration of his low chuckle resonating within him. "Thank you" The doctor murmured, stroking a hand through the other man's hair like he used to dream of doing. "Well," John said, helping Sherlock up from his knees to stand his full height above him, "shall we?"

The detective nodded, taking John's hand and following him into his bedroom. They reached the bed and Sherlock hesitated fractionally. "Wait, I have to, I want to-" He stuttered to John. The doctor nodded.

"OK, take as long as you need." He replied with a shy smile. This was only their second time, and they were nearly as nervous as the first, each man cautious of the pressure on them to get this right. When two of the best friends in the world become lovers, it can lead to many complications, and John was afraid he would push the other man too far and hurt him or drive him away. Sherlock, for his part, was just afraid of losing John. If he lost John, what was the point? John was The One, if Sherlock lost him, he could never live with himself.

The detective went into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door behind him. Once alone, he began to fret and pace the room in his indecision. What was John expecting from him? Would it be the same as the first time? Sherlock groaned and sat down heavily on the toilet seat, turning the thoughts over in his head and working himself up until he was certain John could never love him and would never want to stay with him as soon as he found out how Sherlock was still rubbish at sex the second time round.

John sat on Sherlock's bed, his ankles crossed, and waited patiently for the detective to return so that they could be together. He ran his fingers through his sandy hair and worried the nape of his neck thoughtfully. He didn't know how they should go about it again. The first time had been great, more than great, pretty bloody spectacular, but John didn't want to ruin what they had by rushing into new things he wasn't even sure of himself. John had been with men before, but they were short flings or poorly considered relationships which barely lasted a week. However, that was sufficient time for him to gather some firsthand knowledge of the basics.

Before long, it had got to the point where both men had sickened themselves with fear and could hardly bare to face the other, let alone be intimate with them. Sherlock was shaking with worry, and he had begun tugging painfully at his hair in his confusion. John lay on the bed and stared blankly at the ceiling, hands laced over his stomach. He stood abruptly and stomped over to the bathroom, wrenching the door open and barging into the little room. "John?" Sherlock said in alarm, raising his head where it had been cradled in his hands. The doctor marched up to the other man and took his face in his hands; he allowed himself a quick glance at Sherlock's face before he brought the detective's lips to meet his and kissed him deeply.

"Do you trust me?" John asked tentatively, caressing Sherlock's cheek with his thumb. The detective nodded. John took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. Sherlock sat on the bed and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt uncomfortably. John wasted no time, crawling onto the bed and over to the detective. Sherlock scrambled backwards a bit to accommodate the doctor, who approached him and pushed him lightly onto his back. The detective felt vulnerable, an unfamiliar emotion to him, as John slowly crawled atop him and straddled his hips. John smiled gently at the other man, settling comfortably with Sherlock's hips between his thighs. He bent down and ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair, kissing him lazily and stroking the pale skin of the detective's chest. "I want to try something, you have to relax OK?" Sherlock merely kissed him harder, slipping his arms around John's waist and drawing his body closer.

"I want you John" He whispered "I want you"

* * *

><p>John shivered with desire, running his hands over Sherlock's bare back arched before him. The detective's spine protruded sharply and John could feel the ridges of the other man's exposed ribs beneath his fingertips. He reached underneath Sherlock's body and stroked his chest soothingly, rubbing slow circles and mapping the slight muscles of his abdomen tightening and flexing beneath him with the tension of his imminent release. "Relax" John whispered to him, trailing his hands over Sherlock's thighs and between his legs teasingly. The detective stifled a moan and pushed back against John. "You have to help me Sherlock, I don't want to hurt you" The detective groaned deeper as John rubbed the sensitive spot just before his opening.<p>

"Yes, John, anything" He gasped helplessly, fingers digging into the mattress. John took a breath and placed his hands on the detective's hips for support.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes" Sherlock hissed desperately. John sighed and bent his head to press a kiss to the base of Sherlock's spine lovingly. He teased Sherlock's opening experimentally, pressing the tip of his aching member against the muscle and penetrating him with a short, sharp thrust. John gasped and his body trembled with the pleasure. Sherlock let out a little whimper of pain and wriggled against him uncomfortably.

"Sherlock?" John breathed, trying hard to be concerned about his friend while attempting to control his overwhelming desire to thrust deeper into him.

"I'm fine, it's OK, go on" Sherlock stuttered, his eyes squeezed shut.

John wrapped his arms around the detective and closed his eyes, pressing their bodies closer together. Sherlock huffed beneath him as the angle increased the intensity of the pain where they were connected. "God Sherlock I'm so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you" John mumbled against his back.

"I can do this; just let me try, please!" Sherlock moaned. John let out a satisfied purr of contentment and arched his back to the detective. He pulled out fractionally and shivered with pleasure at the sensation of being inside Sherlock. "Oh...John" The detective rumbled as the other man began to thrust slowly into him. His whispers became a low groan, then a shout of ecstasy as John bucked his hips into him faster and their breathing became ragged, and John began grunting adorably. Sherlock closed his eyes, this was even better than the last time; all he could focus on was the rhythm of John pushing inside him and the constricting of his abdomen as he came close to his release. Then with one deep thrust, John his prostate and Sherlock _screamed. _

* * *

><p>Sherlock lay flat on his back next to his friend in his double bed, his chest rising and falling erratically as the thrum of his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He managed to calm himself, stretching his full length over the cool sheets and relaxing his tensed muscles.<p>

John closed his eyes, feeling exposed beneath the thin bed sheet they had pulled up to cover themselves, having to discard the duvet earlier as things grew decidedly...hotter. Sherlock moved his hand slowly over to the other side of the bed and found John's hand, covering it with his own and lacing their fingers together. The doctor turned his head to look at his new lover, and Sherlock met his gaze with a wide ecstatic grin which was mirrored on the face of his new lover.

John rolled onto his side and released Sherlock's hand, cuddling into his side like last time. The detective happily wrapped his arms around the smaller man, drawing his body close to his own. John tucked his legs between Sherlock's and the detective closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against John's. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

"John" Sherlock whispered loudly, nudging the sleeping form of the doctor with his nose and kissing his cheek. John mumbled something in his sleep and squeezed the detective tightly round his middle. A few more little pokes and a cheeky pinch of his arse later and the doctor finally stirred.

"Mmmmmooorning" He drawled, butting his head against Sherlock's neck lovingly.

"Good morning John" Sherlock said, smiling as the doctor rubbed his eyes and blinked up at him blearily.

"God you're gorgeous" John muttered almost resentfully, snuggling into him. Sherlock chuckled and smoothed his hands over the smaller man's back and over his buttocks thoughtfully. John shivered and grinned. "How are you feeling?"

Sherlock hesitated before answering. "...sore" He said after a while.

"I'm sorry, I got a bit carried away" John apologised, pulling away from him nervously. Sherlock shook his head and pulled him close again.

"No, I liked it very much. It hurt at first, but it was a good kind of hurt, I wanted it" He mused.

"I'm glad; it was never my intention to hurt you Sherlock"

"I'm fine" The detective lied, feeling the tenderness aching between his buttocks uncomfortably.

They lay quietly for a moment before Sherlock shifted and slid apart from John. "I'll be back in a moment" He said, getting out from under the covers and padding lightly to the bathroom. Before he was halfway across the room John flinched.

"Sherlock, you're bleeding!" he said suddenly, noticing the smear of crimson streaked over the detective's pale skin. Sherlock turned and swiped a hand at his buttocks in embarrassment. John peeled back the covers and peered at the sheets where the bright pigment of the other man's blood blotched the white cotton shockingly. "Oh Sherlock" He murmured, glancing at the detective stood naked and hurt before him.

"I wasn't going to say anything" Sherlock replied, staring fixedly at the floor.

"Please, you have to tell me if you're hurt" John said, getting out of bed and joining the detective, taking his hand and standing close to him so their bodies touched.

"It hurts John" Sherlock whispered, closing his eyes.

"I'll fix it" The doctor said, stroking a thumb over Sherlock's hip and leaning into him.

* * *

><p>"Good God" The familiar pompous voice blurted from the doorway. John jumped away from his new lover, but Sherlock held his hand and turned the doctor's body towards his to shield him and cover his dignity.<p>

"Mycroft" Sherlock greeted his brother icily. The elder Holmes stood frozen with his hand on the doorknob and the famed umbrella dangling from his forearm. Mycroft nodded his acknowledgement and eyed his little brother's naked form wrapped around the doctor with feint embarrassment.

"Hello, Doctor Watson" He said pleasantly. John looked up from where he had shoved his head against Sherlock's chest and screwed his eyes shut; hoping desperately that this unbearable situation was just a dream.

"Hello Mycroft" John replied, squeezing Sherlock around the waist and turning his head to offer a strained smile in the imposing man's general direction. The detective moved his hands up and stroked the back of John's neck, dipping his head and resting his chin on the smaller man's shoulder.

"Go away!" Sherlock mumbled, pressing a kiss to the soft bare skin of his doctor's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Mycroft nodded awkwardly, turning away from his brother and his flatmate turned lover out of courtesy. This was certainly intriguing. For all he knew, his little brother was a virgin, having never had a single person to care for in his life. Mycroft should know, he had installed the security cameras in every corner of 221B, including Sherlock's bedroom, and that place saw less action than the mortuary.

How, then, had he missed this? Him, the man pretty much in charge of the British government, had been unable to notice when his brother lost his virginity? He sighed to himself, settling into the armchair and waiting for the pair to finish whatever it was they had been doing.

* * *

><p>John turned to Sherlock, who released himself from his grasp and turned away from him. "Sherlock-"<p>

"I'm fine John!" He snapped irritably, striding to the wardrobe and grabbing a tee shirt, pants and jeans. John stared at him awkwardly, a hand hovering in front of his genitals, suddenly feeling very exposed. The detective dressed, pulling on the shirt. He was about to pull up his boxers when he felt a warm hand on his bare skin. John smoothed a hand over the detective's bum and removed the feint trace of blood on his pale flesh. Sherlock looked at him and smiled his thanks, beckoning the doctor over to the wardrobe and fetching him some clothes. John looked at the pair of boxers, jeans and plain white shirt before pulling them on. Had someone told him a few weeks ago that he would be dressing in his flatmates clothes after sex he would have never believed them. Sherlock turned to the other man and bent his head to kiss him sweetly one more time before they faced his brother.

Sherlock and John entered the room holding hands and smiling slightly. Mycroft offered a tight lipped smile in return and watched in amusement as his brother tried in vain to take a seat in his favourite chair. The detective lowered his behind into the soft leather but flinched and stood up again abruptly. Mycroft stifled a chuckle. John flashed a pitying look at his friend and took the seat instead as Sherlock stood behind him.

The detective groaned inwardly as his rear end failed to comply with his intentions of sitting down. That particular area had been subjected to some rather new activity recently, and the pain was too much to put pressure on.

"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock growled, resting his hand on John's shoulder protectively and kneading his muscle in a weird nervous massage. The doctor reached up and placed his hand over Sherlock's reassuringly. Mycroft stood and swung his umbrella thoughtfully.

"Nothing, dear brother, nothing of importance. Besides, I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Is that supposed to be funny, Mycroft?" John said suddenly, hating the smug expression on the other man's face. Startled by the outburst, Mycroft took some time to reply.

"Not in the slightest, John. I wish you both the very best of luck." Sherlock scoffed at this, raising an eyebrow. "Really." The elder Holmes reaffirmed. Sherlock nodded.

"John, may I speak to you for a moment alone?" Mycroft asked. John closed his eyes in frustration. He followed Sherlock's brother into the hall, conscious of the weary glance from his lover.

"Mycroft this is ridiculous, I am not having the big brother talk with you! I care about Sherlock deeply, you know that."John hissed when they were out of earshot.

Mycroft nodded "Very well. But know that if you ever hurt him, I have people who can make you regret you were ever born John Watson." he said with a pleasant smile.

"MYCROFT!" Sherlock roared, storming into the hall and taking John by the waist possessively. "How dare you threaten him?" He said.

Mycroft Holmes simply rolled his eyes and started down the stairs. "Take good care of each other" He gave as a parting call. Behind him, Sherlock and John embraced in the doorway of 221B Baker Street. His brother was finally happy, and that was enough.

The two friends retreated into the flat, their arms wrapped around the other's waist comfortably. This was it now, the first step to the rest of their lives.

John Watson was Sherlock's first love, his first night being intimate with another person, and his first true friend. He was the one, the only one, whom the great Sherlock Holmes would ever love.

His best friend and his lover.

His carer and his protector.

His work, his love, his life.

**His first, and his last.**


End file.
